Not Just Another Saturday
by XXXCultOfPunkXXX
Summary: It's the same old story; a brain, an athlete, a basket-case, a princess, a musician, and a criminal are all forced to spend Saturday detention with each other. It may seem so, but it's not just your average Saturday. John/OC, Brian/Claire, Andrew/Allison. Rated T for Bender's splendid vocabulary.
1. Prolouge

**Hey! This is actually, as you can see, a Breakfast Club fanfiction! I love this movie, but I hate the ending. And there always just seemed to be something missing, something that it needed to be complete. So I'm going to try my hand at the heavily used John/OC, with the usual A/A and Claire/Brian. So, enjoy!**

_Saturday, March 24, 1984_

_Shermer High School_

_Shermer Illinois, 60062_

_Dear Mr. Vernon,_

_We except the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday detention for whatever it was we did wrong. What we did was wrong, but we think you're crazy making us write an essay telling us who we think we are. What do you care? You see us as you want to see us, in the simplest terms and most convenient definitions. You see us as a brain, an athlete, a basket-case, a princess, a musician, and a criminal. Correct? That's the way we saw each other at 7:00 this morning. We were brainwashed..._


	2. Chapter 1

_**CHAPTER 1**_

A gray BMW sat in /front of Shermer High School on the morning of March 24, 1984. Inside sat a girl with short red hair, dressed head to toe in designer clothes. In her ears were two real diamond earrings and they sparkled as she turned her head, short red curls flicking along with the movement. Her arms were crossed, and a look of disgust fell across her face as she glared back up at the school. She shook her head in disbelief, still not turning to look at her father, who sat behind the wheel. "I can't believe you can't get me out of this," she said, disbelief still visible in everything she did, not excluding in her voice. "I mean," she continued "it's so absurd I have to be here on a Saturday. It's not like I'm a defective or anything." Her father shifted his weight so he was facing her as he began to speak. "I'll make it up to you," he began. "Honey, ditching class to go shopping doesn't make you a defective. Have a good day." He handed her a shopping bag, presumably filled with her lunch, and she rolled her eyes one last time before stepping out of the car.

Meanwhile, another car pulled up to the school, this one containing a mother, a son, and a little girl. "Is this the first time or the last time you do this?" the mother began, scolding the boy. "Last," he replied, but his mother wasn't done. "Well, you get in there, and you use the time to your advantage." "Mom," he tried to reason. "We're not supposed to study, we're just have to sit the and do nothing." The poor boy's mother wouldn't listen to his reasoning, and retaliated by saying "Well Mister, you figure out a way to study." The little girl that sat between the boy and his mother spoke up for the first time. Looking at her brother, she offered up a single word, an indignant "Yeah." "Well go!" she half yelled, half barked at him, but either way, the boy quickly exited the red station wagon and began towards the school.

Inside a different car, a boy and his father sat in silence. "Well hey," his father spoke up. "I screwed around. Guys screw around, there's nothing wrong with that. Except you got caught, sport." "Yeah, mom already reamed me, alright?" he finally spoke up, his blond hair moving slightly with the slight motions of his head. "You wanna miss a match?" his father asked, tone getting slightly more heated. "Wanna blow your ride?" he asked again, each time his tone got harsher. The boy just looked down and shook his head 'no'. "Now, no school is gonna give a scholarship to a discipline case!" his father shouted, with half the force he could have used. The boy glared at his father for a second before exiting his respective car, holding his sack lunch.

As that car pulled away, another boy came into view. No car, just a boy. He walked across the front field, aviators on, grey trench wrapped tightly onto his person, red scarf draped around his neck. He wore combat boots with the flaps turned down, and a red bandana was wrapped around one ankle. He blindly walked through the parking lot, not looking. If the boy had looked, he would have seen the blue car come speeding into view, nearly hitting him. But instead, he just kept on walking.

As the blue car came to a screeching halt, just narrowly missing the walking boy, a girl emerged from it. She donned a puffy winter jacket with a fur lined hood, a long grey skirt, grey leggings, mismatching striped socks, and beat up black converse. It looked as if the girl were about to say something, but before she could, the car sped off, leaving her alone in the middle of the lot. She re-adjusted her large over the shoulder tote on her shoulder and walked towards the school.

A girl pulled into the school parking lot on her beat up '77 Vespa scooter that she had bought with all her savings. She didn't have enough for a car, so a Vespa was the next best mode of transport on her 4 mile drive from the school to her house. She hung up her helmet, and readjusted her grey hoodie. Her white backpack was on her back, but it only contained her lunch. She wore black and white converse, with light acid wash jeans, and a Van Halen Baseball Tee, with a blue flannel shirt. She took a deep breath as she braced herself for another meeting with Dick, then reminded herself how it's better than being home with _him_.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: I forgot the disclaimer XD. Despite all my bribing and sad attempts at luring the Breakfast Club into my basement, I do not own them. All rights go to John whats his name. I'll look it up later XD. All that matters is that despite my best efforts I don't own them. On with the show! Also, I will not refer to each character by name until their name is introduced, so just bear with me. If it gets too confusing I may change it but I like where it's going. **

The red haired girl had taken it upon herself to take a seat right in the front of the room. She sat to the far right in the front, simply staring ahead. It was almost as if she kept staring, all her surroundings would disappear. The brain took his respective seat behind her, thought gravitating towards the left of his table. The jock entered next, lumbering into the library. He saw the princess in her seat up front, and made a gesture almost as if asking permission to sit down. She shrugged her shoulders and raised her eyebrows, and without hesitation the jock plopped down in his chair. The criminal came in next, making sure to fiddle with and knock down everything there was to fiddle with and knock down. He snatched up a pack of index cards off of the counter and glanced at the writings before shoving them in his coat. As he glanced over the others he pushed his glasses onto his forehead. He walked up upon the poor brain and made two motions of his arm, instructing the boy to get out of his seat. The boy quickly popped out of the seat, snatching up his belongings and moving to the parallel table. The criminal pulled out his chair and pulled out another, facing them towards each other. He eased into the right chair and rebelliously swung his feet up upon the left chair. As he was in the process of making himself comfortable, the girl in the winter jacket hurried in, adjusting the bag on her shoulder. She hurried past everyone and made it to her seat in the far back of the library, all eyes on her as she did so. She had even managed to attract the criminal's attention. She threw herself into the chair, back turned on the rest of her peers. The jock turned to the princess and they shared a snicker at the unique antics of the very unique girl. The brain turned away and once facing forward just raised both eyebrows. Finally, the last girl walked in, adjusting her backpack straps as she studied the seating. 'Front or back,' she thought, and finally decided upon taking a seat in the front. She could feel the other students in the library starting at her, and all the attention began to make her feel uncomfortable. She hated to be looked at or even recognized unless it was in admiration of her music. She flipped her long, white blond hair over her shoulder and kept her dark purple eyes fixated on her fidgeting hands.  
Finally, after a moment of silence, Vernon finally decided to make an appearance. He barged in the door, walking with his usual over-confident swagger. He looked each one of them up and down before he began to speak. "Well, well," he began. "Here we are. I want to congratulate you for being on time." "Excuse me sir?" the cherry haired girl raised her glove clad hand. "I think there's been a mistake. I know its detention, but I don't think I belong in here." The blond girl shook her head at the sheer stupidity of the princess, and forced herself to hold back a snicker. Vernon obviously shared her thoughts, but he just looked down at the girl then glanced at his watch. "It is now 7:06," he began, and the brain lifted his sleeve to double check on his own watch. "You have exactly 8 hours and 54 minutes to think about why you're here." This was met with sighs of protest by the princess and jock, and a strange sound from the criminal. And it was then, while Vernon continued saying "To ponder the error of your ways," that the criminal leaned back his head and spit up into the air and caught it in his mouth. The princess gasped in horror and everyone but the blond girl looked disgusted. Instead a look of sheer amusement played on her features, lightening her seemingly gaunt face. The criminal turned and shot her a smirk, which immediately made her avert her eyes back to the table so as not to let him see the faint blush forming on her face. 'Why are you blushing? It was just a smirk, doesn't mean anything.' She thought to herself. "And you may not talk," Vernon pointed to the princess, "You will not move from these seats," he pointed at the brain who was midway through shifting over a seat to the left. He returned to his original seat immediately. "And you," he pointed at the criminal as he removed the chair from under his feet, "will not sleep." He glanced around again and began. "Alright people, we're gonna try something a little different today. We are going to write an essay. Of no less than 1,000 words." He began to hand out the papers, starting with the dark haired girl. She glanced up at him then glanced back down. "Describing to me who you think you are." "This a test?" the criminal asked, but he was ignored by Vernon who continued. "And when I say essay, I mean essay. I do not mean a single word repeated a thousand times." The criminal had put his feet up on the table now, almost glaring a whole through Vernon. "Is that clear Mr. Bender?" "Cry-stal." Bender replied, lazily glancing away. "Good. Maybe you'll learn a little something about yourself. Maybe you'll even decide whether or not you care to return." At this, the brain raised his hand and stood up. "Uh, you know I can answer that right now sir. Y'know, that'd be no for me, cause-" "Sit down Johnson," Vernon ordered. "Thank you sir." Johnson concluded before being seated again. "My office is right across that hall. Any monkey business is ill advised. Any questions?" he asked and when he got no response he turned to leave but Bender spoke up. "Yeah, I got a question. Does Barry Manillow know you raid his wardrobe?" This earned a few smirks from his peers, and a smile form the blonde. "I'll give you the answer to that question Mr. Bender, next Saturday. Don't mess with the bull, young man, you'll get the horns." And with that he turned and walked out of the room, leaving them all alone once again.

**A/N: Hey! I know it's been a WHILE. If you haven't already guessed, I'm really bad with updates. But don't abandon hope! I plan to finish this story tonight and tomorrow, I have off from school, and I may just update it all at once, depending on how fast I got. I ALSO know that I have a good amount of followers on this story and only 3 reviews. That makes me sad :( Not trying to beg but it's nice to know what you're doing wrong in an effort to improve for your benefit. Plus reviews make me feel like I have friends. Until next time ****_mes amis_****,**

**_~XXXCultOfPunkXXX _**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: THERE WAS 1 UPDATE BEFORE THIS JUST LETTIN YALL KNOW**

"That man," Bender said, pointing a finger at the retreating figure of Vernon "is a brownie hound." The blond nodded in agreement and muttered something almost inaudible about the truth. All the students shifted around in their chairs, boredom already sinking in. All the sudden, a clicking noise was heard from the back of the room. Slowly everyone turned around to look at the girl in the winter jacket, and saw she was biting at her hands. She glanced up from what she was doing to find everybody's eyes on her, except the blondes, whose body was turned toward her but her eyes, were averted in any direction but at her. The rest stared in disbelief, until in typical Bender fashion he said "You keep eatin' your hand you're not gonna be hungry for lunch." The girl glanced up and spit the nail at him, missing wildly. "I've seen you before you know," he said, and a creak came from Vernon's office as he turned to look inside. "Who do I think I am?" Johnson muttered as he stretched his pen cap over his lower lip. "Who are you? Who are you? I am a walrus." Both Bender and the blonde had turned around and looked at him as if he were slightly off, which may not be wrong. He soon noticed their eyes on him and he removed the pen cap from his lip trying to casually play it off. Then Bender reached to take off his jacket at the same time Johnson did. Bender glared at the brain, causing him to put the jacket back in place while Bender continued to remove his. He turned to Bender and said "It's the shits, huh?" only to be met by Bender's icy glare. The blonde couldn't help but chuckle at Johnson's attempt at civility and wanted to really laugh at Benders icy rebuff.  
He turned to face forward and took the two pieces of paper on his desk and crumpled them into balls. He threw one at the princess and it went soaring over her head. He threw the other at the blonde, and this one landed on her table. She simply crumpled it up more and threw it in the garbage can, smirking back at the criminal when it landed perfectly inside the plastic bucket. He then began to pretend to play the guitar and sang along. "Na na na nana na nana na" he began, and shortly after the musician joined in. "Nana na na na na na nana". She sang just above a whisper, but Bender shot a smirk her way. "I can't believe this is really happening to me," the princess scoffed, trying her hardest to ignore the criminal and the musician's crude concert. "Oh shit," Bender suddenly stopped. "What are we supposed to do if we have to take a piss?" This time the blonde couldn't help but laugh at the tone of his voice. "If ya gotta go, ya gotta go," he said and in the silence of the library the unzipping of a zipper could be heard clear as day. The princess and the jock turned around, but immediately she turned right back, horrified. "Hey, you're not urinating in here man," the jock spoke up. "Don't talk, don't talk, it makes it crawl back up." Now the blonde was dying of laughter, her face was turning red and tears were welling in her eyes. "You whip it out and you're dead before the first drop hits the floor," the jock continued, trying to sound imposing. "You're pretty sexy when you get angry. Grrrr," Bender spoke, and that was the breaking point for the blonde, all her laughter was released, earning glares from the princess and jock and a smile from Bender. He sat back up and blew out some air before speaking up again. "Hey, homeboy, why don't you go close that door, we'll get the prom queen and the musician impregnated." The red head whipped around to glare at Bender, but the blonde's reaction was far more unsettling. She had been tapping a rhythm on the table, and abruptly she stopped and whipped around, eyes wide and face even more pale that before if that was even possible. She looked ill, as if she was about to faint. Bender took note of that, he took note of everything.

"Hey. Hey!" the jock shouted. "What." Bender snapped. "If I lose my temper you're totaled man." "Totally?" Bender mocked. "Totally." "Why don't you just shut up," Claire sneered. "Nobody here is interested." "Really," the jock agreed. "Buttface." "Real original," muttered the musician, and finally she returned to tapping whatever rhythm she was tapping before. "Hey Sporto, what'd you do to get in here? Forget to wash your jock?" No matter how hard she tried the blonde couldn't help but snicker at all of his snide comments. "And you," she paled as she realized his attention was on her. "Play your music too loud?" The breath she hadn't even realized she was holding in was released as the statement left his lips. "Hey, uh, fellas, I think we should just write our papers," the nerd spoke up again, but his request fell upon deaf ears. "Look, just because you live here doesn't give you a right to be a pain in the ass, so knock it off!" Sporto yelled. "Well, it's a free country," Bender said. "He's just doing it to get a rise out of you, just ignore him," the red-head tried to reason. "Sweets," Bender snickered. "You couldn't ignore me if you tried.


End file.
